


Stranger

by mytimehaspassed



Category: The Hamiltons
Genre: F/M, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Serial Killers, Sibling Incest, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:09:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytimehaspassed/pseuds/mytimehaspassed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This town, you’re the Carters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger

**STRANGER**  
THE HAMILTONS  
David/Francis; Wendell/David; Wendell/Francis; Wendell/Darlene  
 **WARNINGS** : Post-movie; serial killing

  
This town, you’re the Carters.

David says you should all start changing your first names now, to something short and plain and normal like Joe or John or Rob, something everybody will forget, something that’ll help you blend in, but Wendell starts giving him looks and he drops it. Darlene just smirks, runs her fingers through Lenny’s hair and raises her eyebrow, pulls her fist tight, because everything’s just funny to her, the way she used to lock you in the closet, the way she would bare her teeth and tell you not to squeal. The way she still sings Lenny to sleep, lets him take that first drink of blood, lets him curl up between her and Wendell, the way he grabs fistfuls of their skin and brings it to his mouth, sometimes you’re not even sure why you ever felt like you belonged in this family. Sometimes, you’re not even sure why you just didn’t run away when you had the chance, why you didn’t just ignore the cravings altogether.

David says, You’re getting so big, Francis. His dopey grin, his stupid white teeth, he smiles big and wide and says, You’re finally growing up. Like, really, like you’ve been a child all this time. Like, really, like ever since you’ve given in, ever since you gave up that dream of a normal apple pie life for kidnapping transients and drinking blood out of frozen IV packs stocked in the fridge, like, seriously, ever since then, you’ve started to become a man. This new house, this new town, David and his stupid cheerful disposition, the way he just can’t stop smiling, well, David still buries fags in the backyard underneath the rose bushes. David still litters the garden with every one night stand he’s ever had. The way he ruffles your hair, tugs on the string of your hoodie, you’re not stupid, you never have been, but his perfect smile, the dimples in his cheeks, David says, You would have made Mom and Dad so proud.

And you’re not stupid, you never have been, but you’re pretty sure that the secrets you keep in this family, the secrets that are more than just blood, more than just needles and hidden basements and vampire lore, well, you’re pretty sure that Mom and Dad would never have even wanted to know. David and his soft touch on your cheek, the way he smiles and smiles, runs his finger down the length of your neck, so soft, runs his finger over your fragile collarbone, David says, They would have loved to see us now, how big we’re getting, how good we are.

This town, this city, this new house, it has a basement just like all the others before it, cold, dark, dank, concrete walls full of chains and desperation, claw marks made from broken nails, bloody hands. This town, like, really, like this is gonna be the one you stay in for the rest of your life. David and the way he unpacks carefully, puts away pots and pans and silverware in the cupboards, in the kitchen island drawers, the way he unwraps plates from newspaper shrouds and stacks them carefully on the table, David saying, This should be our last stop. David saying, This should be it. And, really, like he doesn’t know any better by now. Like he’s never really grew a brain, the way the twins dance around and make friends they’ll never keep for very long, the way their hunger slowly grows, that first taste of warm blood, the way skin pierces so so so easily underneath their mouths. David saying, We could stay here forever.

David saying, This is it, Francis. Saying, This is it.

David saying, Mom and Dad would have been so proud.

This town, all those boxes sitting haphazardly in this new house, this new basement, these new identities, well, you point your video camera straight at David and tell him to get the fucking picture already. His drooping smile, his white teeth, you roll your eyes and tell him that this, that all of this, you all will be lucky if the twins don’t fuck it up in a month, let alone for forever. These new names, these new clothes and haircuts, this new house, well, you aim your camera right at David’s mouth, right at his frown, zooming in close enough to see all those wrinkles, all those stress lines, and you say, “Stop pretending you have everything under control.”

David pushing his hair back behind his ears, his uncertain mouth, his bottom lip skewered between his teeth, drawing blood, and you’re saying, “Stop pretending that this is okay. Saying, “Stop pretending that we’re doing fine.” These dirty basement secrets, needles and IV bags full of blood and all these fucking red walls, all these fucking fags buried under the garden, those times you watch Wendell creep into David’s room, those same nights that David creeps into yours, well, you’re saying, “Stop pretending like we’re fucking children.” Saying, “We don’t need you to be our leader, David.”

Your camera zooming in and in, David’s red mouth, torn and bloody, his white teeth now stained, this new town, these new identities, and you’re saying, “And you know what?” David and his careful hands, his quiet demeanor, he’s trying so hard not to lose control, not to get angry, and you’re saying, “You know what?”

Saying, “Fuck Mom and Dad.”

***

Wendell says, “No hard feelings,” grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling back, pulling you tight against his chest. Wendell says, “It’s just that David’s gone fag hunting again.” And, really, when did your family ever think that their secrets were actually secret? When did your family ever get this bad? Wendell says, “Sorry, Franny.” Says, “No hard feelings.” Pulling you back, pulling you tight, his deft hands working their way down your pants, wrenching the zipper down down down, and your eyes are shut as hard as they can, your hands trembling in front of you. Wendell saying, “Sorry.” Saying, “Sorry, Francis.” His mouth on the back of your neck, but really, though, honestly, he only ever uses his teeth.

Wendell says, “Sorry, buddy.”

Says, “But you’re just gonna have to do for tonight.”

***

The thing about your family is, you can’t go anywhere that death can’t follow. All those young girls and boys, the teenagers that hitchhike late at night, the ones Wendell can charm into getting in his car, the ones he loves to take for a test drive before he brings them back home, before David chains them up and drains their blood. Well, see, the thing is, all those old vampire stories, it’s not like you haven’t gotten the picture and moved on, picked up the technology, gotten smarter over the years, it’s not like you haven’t learned what you need to do to blend in. It’s just that, you’re never gonna be able to escape what you are, who you are. You’re never gonna be able to be anything else.

After David comes back with a man, after those muted screams in the room next to yours, the dull thud as a body hits the floor, the scrape of a belt against the wooden floors, the scrape scrape scrape all the way to the basement, those rattling chains, the soft noise of shovel hitting dirt, afterwards, David comes into your room and climbs in your bed. He likes running his fingers through your hair, the same way Darlene does to Lenny, this soft scratch of nails, this touch of skin on skin. David says, “I’m glad you decided to stay.” Like it was really a choice. Honestly. Like it was ever a question. David says, “You belong here, Francis.” Says, “We’re your family.”

Just like Mom and Dad. Just like all the ones before you, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your cousins. You’re born, not made, and you’ve got a whole fucking family to prove that.

David says, “I’m glad you decided to give in.” Really, like it was ever an issue. Like you would have ever been able to live without them, without the blood. Like you really would have survived. David says, “You did the right thing.” Says, “You made the right decision, Francis. The right choice.” Really.

The thing about your family is, Wendell knows that David comes in here, those nights after he fucks those men, those nights after he kills, the dirt of the garden underneath his fingernails, splinters from the wooden shovel in his palms, his soft skin, that heady smell of earth. The thing is, Wendell knows, and doesn’t care. You’re just as much David’s property as Wendell’s, the way you get passed around like party favors, the way they look at each other, those marks on their skin like scratches, like bites, sharp fangs white like pearls. The thing is, your family, those secrets, the ones that are more than just blood, more than just cold and dark and slick needles piercing supple flesh, well, they’re not so secret, not really, not to you, not to them.

And you’re not stupid, never have been, but you’re just so fucking good at playing dumb.

***

Darlene and Wendell pick up a teenage boy from the local high school and bring him back home. He’s sixteen, maybe, tall and thin and dressed in skinny jeans and a blue shirt with black lettering. He wears glasses that constantly slip down his nose, and he pushes them back up with his index finger, blinks two, three times to focus again. Darlene calls him adorable, and Wendell looks at him with hunger in his eyes, but you know none of this is gonna last. He’s someone’s son, someone’s brother, and there will be people looking for him before the day’s over. Before David even has a chance to bury his body, the bloody, butchered mess that the twins will leave behind, what was once a boy that somebody loved.

After they drag the boy into their room, Lenny hot on their heels, gnashing his white white teeth, growling and snarling like a puppy, well, you go to your room to pack.

***

David and his hands, his hair soft against your mouth, your new bed, your new house, this room that he let you have, the one painted sky blue with eggshell white clouds made from half circles, black birds in the shape of carets, these cartoon walls, well, he says, “This is it, Francis.”

This new town, after the twins, after that boy, this new life. And it’s just supposed to be this simple, it’s just supposed to be this easy to pack up and start again, David and his nose against the base of your spine, cold against your naked back, the way his hands feather across your arms, the way his breath feels warm on your ear, wet. David says, “This is it.” Says, “I mean it this time.” And, really, sure. Sure he does.

After that boy, David and his mouth, well, you guess you’re not the only one who’s good at playing dumb. You guess you’re not the only one who’s fooling yourself in this family. Wendell and the way he grabs you, his rough hands, his rough touch, the way he bites your skin, the way he tries to pretend you’re David, well, you guess you’re not the only one who’s better off in the dark. Really, you guess you’re not the only one who’s better off pretending not to know, pretending that this is all okay. Honestly, after that boy, after the twins and that dried blood on the walls, just like Kitty, just like before you let Lenny out of the box, Darlene and Wendell and their mouths stained red, that night you finally gave in, well, you guess you’re just better pretending that you’re gonna make it out of this alright.

David says, “This time, we’re staying here forever.”

Says, “This is it.”

This town, you’re the Kennedys.


End file.
